The Thievery Shuffle

Richard Sellers gummed his prison gruel, barely tasting it, and
once again returned to his daydream. In it, he was young again.
After serving 45 years in prison, the rest of his life sentence
had been waived, due to his age and his having been a good
prisoner, and today he was getting out! He fantasized about being
young and stealing the famous Blue Lion. He was obsessed with the
thought of it. It had consumed his thoughts, night and day, for a
long while now, but especially since he'd been sent away for good
after his fourth attempt to swipe it. It should have been after
his third attempt, but he had gotten out of it that time by
threatening a lawsuit against the police department for police
brutality after being thumped but good by Detective Gavin McTaven
as he tried to beat the truth out of him. As he counted down the
minutes until he had freedom, he was thinking up a plan to, once
and for all, steal The Blue Lion.

He had been released from custody. He felt so strange, being free
to go anywhere, and do anything he liked; and what he would like
was having The Blue Lion. It had been broken during his last
robbery attempt, and now was housed in an art museum, as the
"Famous Blue Lion, An Example of the Price of Greed". He didn't
see himself as ever having been greedy; he wanted to steal it
only for the challenge; then after successfully stealing The Blue
Lion, the name Richard Sellers would be synonymous with
incredible daring, and incredible skill! But, the famous statue
had, up until now, eluded him. That it wasn't worth much now, he
didn't care in the least. All he wanted before he died was the
recognition as a master thief. Therefore, he'd decided to try
stealing it again. No, he couldn't move the way he used to, and
yes, he'd have to come up with some new, creative ways to
accomplish it, but he would have possession of The Blue Lion!

He shuffled up the sidewalk as fast as his walker would allow and
stopped once he was outside the art museum, which was the new
home of The Blue Lion. The security guard for the museum was
approaching him, shining his flashlight into every shadow.
Sellers knew he had to hide quickly as the guard drew closer, but
as he started to move, his legs got tangled up in the walker's
wheels and he went down with a loud crash! Immediately, the guard
shone his flashlight onto Sellers' prone form.

"Hey, Mr., are you alright?" he asked.

Sellers desperately struggled to his feet, and answered, "Why,
yes thank you, I was just going for my nightly walk from my
nursing home, and I guess I took a misstep. But, I'm okay.
Nothing is broken."

The guard replied, "That's good, I'd hate to see you break your
hip or something. Be more careful, you're not a spring chicken!"

'I'm not a spring chicken, not a fall chicken, I'm not a chicken
at all; I'm a grown-up-man, so cut the condescending crap, would
you?' Sellers thought to himself, but answered only, "I will.
Thank you!" Then he went on down the sidewalk, like he had
resumed passing by, but as soon as the guard passed from view, he
doubled back, eyes straining to see the front door. There, that
looked to be it. With shaking hands, and after looking both ways
along the street to make sure he wasn't observed, he bent to the
lock. Truth be told, he had no clue if anyone was watching him,
because his eyesight had gotten so bad, but he wanted that
statue. Half-expecting to be caught, his fingers closed around
his lock-pick. Man, it had sure been a long time! His hand was
shaking violently, but he at last heard the tell-tale "click",
telling him the lock was now unlocked. At least his hearing was
still okay! He turned the door handle and quickly shuffled
inside. It was pitch-dark, so he felt for his flashlight and
switched it on. Playing the beam along the wall, images of mops,
brooms, and various assorted cleaning supplies were caught in the
light. Damn it, this wasn't the front door to the museum; this
was the door for the janitor's closet. Damn his failing eyesight!

He backed out and glanced around, looking for another door, and
saw the dim outline of another. He shuffled his way over to it,
and squinting, saw the word "Museum". Once more he gripped his
lock-pick and eventually managed to get it in the key hole, until
it clicked unlocked. Then he swung open the door and he was
inside the lobby.

He shone his flashlight around and gratefully saw there were no
motion detectors, so he wouldn't have to worry about tripping an
alarm. He shuffled across the room, his walker making it slower
going, until he was at last next to the glass of the case. He
again squinted to locate The Blue Lion. There, he had spotted the
vague outline of it. He'd recognize the silhouette which had
haunted his dreams anywhere! Carefully he cut open the glass of
the display case and thought he saw a laser beam he would have to
avoid. Leaning with his legs propping him up against the walker,
he reached out his hand to grab The Blue Lion, avoiding the laser
beam. Man, his hand was shaking bad. Suddenly, his hand
convulsed, breaking the beam, and setting off an ear-splitting
alarm. Damn it. He turned as fast as he was able, and "crap!" His
foot became entangled in the walker's wheel and he plummeted to
the floor; then heard a loud crack. 'I think I broke my hip', he
thought to himself.

Richard Sellers was very sore from exercising. He had indeed
broken his hip, and had needed a pin surgically implanted to keep
the bones together. He looked out the window at the hazy daylight
streaming into his cell. Daylight he would never experience,
except through the cell window. When he'd been arrested while
attempting to steal The Blue Lion, he had triggered the
automatic, 'Three Strikes' law, and this time there was nothing
to keep him from being locked up, permanently. Damn it!